


The First Night

by Witchlight



Category: Homestuck, MS Paint Adventures
Genre: Arranged Marriage, Blood, Choking, Kingdomstuck, M/M, bara caliborn, caliborn is an asshole, hermaphrodite dirk, no actual sex in this one, no noncon happens but it is discussed
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-27
Updated: 2016-01-27
Packaged: 2018-05-16 17:22:29
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,046
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5834107
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Witchlight/pseuds/Witchlight
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When the offer of himself had been accepted by the barbarian usurper, his father had told him he was lucky. This way, at least, he would maintain his 'royal birthright'. Never before had the young prince wanted to hit him so badly. His birthright was to be king, not some brawny oaf's glorified plaything.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The First Night

The lithe blonde trembles from his place on the window seat, determined to not even glance at the bed that nearly fills the entire room. Honestly, was this supposed to be for a wedding couple or was there an orgy that would be joining them he wasn't informed of? But those thoughts do little to help, and Dirk closes his eyes tightly to try and block out the image of his - his husband, toying with somebody else while he's trapped beneath, forced to watch. Or perhaps that would be better? At least then he wouldn't be the one being ravished.

Swallowing harshly, the youth runs his fingers through his golden locks, tousling the carefully styled strands and not even caring. None of this was right, or good. He was married to a man, forced into the role of queen just because their army wasn't quite large enough, just because they needed to protect their lands because nothing but food came from their tiny but profitable kingdom, just because he had a cunt between his thighs as well as a cock.

When the offer of himself had been accepted by the barbarian usurper, his father had told him he was lucky. This way, at least, he would maintain his 'royal birthright'. Never before had the young prince wanted to hit him so badly. His birthright was to be king, not some brawny oaf's glorified plaything. The only thing that restrained him was the watchful gaze of his only true friend, his cousin, Dave. He wouldn't do something so childish and useless as that in front of the older male.

Thinking of the bigger blonde is calming, as always. Ten years his senior, the knight had always been his protector, his teacher. He'd tutored the scrawny child through mathematics and swordplay alike, training the boy to be more than his father would have raised him as. Honestly, the man was more a father to him than his own, though much more beloved.

Not even thoughts of his hero could distract him when the doors slam open, emitting the brawny form of his spouse into the room. Orange eyes resolutely gaze out the window at the darkened grounds outside, trying to ignore the oppressive presence that seems to fill the room behind him.

Ignorance is hard to feign when large hands land on his shoulders, dragging him backwards and nearly sending him toppling from his place if not for his head and shoulders finding something to brace against - though the prince would almost wish they hadn't when he realizes that it's his - his husband's abdomen he's balanced precariously against, and he can't help the scowl that curls his lips downwards, drawing his brows together. "Release me." He demands boldly, refusing to rely on the awful man to support him.

His answer is a snort and a step back, sending him to the ground with a strangled gasp, not having actually expected the man to agree to his demand so readily. He scrambles upright, hair further mussed and cheeks shading pink with embarrassment, though he remains tight lipped, simply giving the taller - much, much taller, damn him to the pits of hell - male the best glare he can muster in his shaky state.

Red eyes - red like old blood, nothing like Dave's - scan the lithe body in front of him, and the foreigner snorts in contempt. "You may claim. That you're a prince." The man sneers, reaching forward with one big, dark hand to seize the prince's jaw tightly enough to draw a pained noise from the youth. "But. You are as much of a. Bitch as. Any woman." His voice is accented, words halting as he occasionally pauses to remember a word. It's grating to the prince's ears, another fault to add to the list of his husband's faults.

Hands, dainty and elegant and alabaster pale compared to the foreigner's own, reach up to try and shove the hand away from his face. "And you're nothing but a barbarian who reaches above his station." The blonde murmurs coolly, words level and at odds with the practically murderous expression on his face.

But then those dark fingers wrap around his neck and his insults turn to a sharp gasp of shock and fear as he's hauled up, pressed firmly against the wall. "Don't. Fuck with me." The taller male snarls, all but baring his teeth in a parody of a smile. "Or I'll. Train you to be a. Good wife." Pressed so close, there's no doubt that the big man can feel the disgusted shudder that runs through the little body he has pinned in place. "What?" He asks snidely, purposefully pressing closer, forcing a knee between the little royal's thighs. "Too far above me to. Realize you are my. Broodmare now?"

Squirming, the prince tries to press himself harder back against the wall to avoid the brawny body all but crushing him against the wall already. "If you think for a moment that I will go willingly to your bed then you're even stupider than I thought. Let GO of me, you big brute!" The youth snaps, one hand raising, poised to slap the elder male as hard as he could -

Only for the hand not around his throat to grab it before it could move, the hold on his neck tightening until it's a struggle to breathe, leaving him gasping and fighting for air. The worst thing is that the man isn't even sneering, just looking down at him with a look of cruel amusement. "I never said. Anything about willing." The barbarian points out, voice lowered, and Dirk's heart nearly stops in his chest. Surely the man wasn't suggesting what he thought the bastard was. Surely no one would be so horrid as to...

He's released to cough and hack on the floor, legs collapsing beneath him the moment there's nothing holding him up, and this time, the look the youth gives his husband is one of fear. A hand reaches for him, and he flinches before he realizes the fingertips that touch his jaw are - not gentle, but certainly less rough than before. "But you are my. Queen now." Caliborn muses aloud, tilting his head just slightly. "I will not. Force you. Not this time." He tacks on at the end, shoving lightly at the kneeling boy.

The blonde goes easily enough, slumping back against the wall as he watches with watery eyes. For all his self control, he'd never dealt with a threat like this before, never feared for his safety in such a way. Any other person, he could be assured that he would at least be avenged, but if his death were to come from the dark hands currently petting through his fair locks, then there would be no such thing. None would dare go against their new king. Tears spill down his cheeks, his shame growing as the source of his fear watches still.

It's a surprise when, instead of being mocked, rough and calloused thumbs slide down to wipe away the moisture. They're rough in their ministrations, certainly not a particularly comforting touch, but the shock is enough to make the flow of liquid stop, orange eyes wide with confusion and unease. "What are you...?" The prince begins, only for that same hand to clamp over his mouth and still his words.

"Better ways to get. Inside a bitch than forcing." The man says after a short pause. "Besides. You sleep in my. Bed. I have to sleep. Sometimes too." He grins, quick and sharp. "Could. Always tie you up. But I don't think I'd. Fall asleep that way."

Gross. The prince jerks his head to the side, freeing his mouth and refusing to even acknowledge the other man's comment. Lecherous, uncouth, barbaric son of a prairie wolf. Perhaps letting the beast choke him to death would have been a better path after all.

As though sensing his thoughts, the hand on his mouth transfers to the back of his neck and hauls him up like he weighed no more than a kitten. Then again, compared to the musclebound mass of the warrior, perhaps it was no hardship after all. Still, it was somewhat of a blow to Dirk's pride as a man with how easy it was for the darker male to toss him onto the wide expanse of the bed, crawling on after him with an ease that looked disturbingly predatory. Scrambling back results in Caliborn seizing him by the ankle and dragging him back down, hovering atop the little blonde.

"Y-you said you wouldn't force me!" The words are sharp with fear, the youth's hands striking out only to be pinned above his head. "Are you a liar as well as a brute?" The words are hateful, loud, the prince desperate to try and somehow hide the wild heaving of his chest, the way he trembled like a newborn fawn beneath the killer above him.

A sharp snort of cruel amusement leaves the barbarian, and he pulls a knife from his boot - He was still wearing his boots! And getting muck all over the white sheets, the cad - and slices the waistband of his bride's pants without so much as nicking the skin. Somehow, that seemed to make it all the more terrifying, and the lithe blonde finds himself frozen, breath quick and shallow, as his trousers are dragged down to expose soft, untouched flesh to his huge aggressor's greedy gaze.

"Spread your legs." The demand is rough, and it makes a shiver go down the prince's spine. But he doesn't give in. He was of royal blood, damn it! And he would not be bowed to the will of an intimidating oaf with the brains of a randy beast! His jaw clenches, expression firming into a glare as he stares mutinously up at the elder man.

His rebellion, however, is short-lived and worthless. One thick knee wedges between his thighs, and that's all it takes for that sharp blade to slip down and bite into his skin, pulling a sharp, bitten off cry of pain and surprise from the pale youth's throat as his young body bucks beneath the immovable bulk of his captor.

But then - then that mass is suddenly lifted, Caliborn tucking the knife back into his boot before tossing his shoes to the side. Even as blood sluggishly drips from the wound on his bride's thigh, he strips down to his underclothes before finally turning back to the boy. "Relax. You whiny cunt." He grinds out, reaching with both hands to grab hold of the injured teen's shirt. He rips it open with disturbing ease, jerking it off his young spouse, then tears a strip from it.

He bandages the wound. It takes a moment for the action to process in Dirk's mind, so far from what he'd expected the horrid man to do, which is the only excuse he has for why he didn't kick the barbarian in the jaw with how close he came to rather private areas. It's an exceedingly simplistic way of bandaging, simply wrapping it round the blonde's thigh and tying off the ends, but the wound was no more than a nick. It would do just fine.

"I won't. Force you." Caliborn starts off, gripping the prince's chin and dragging the youth's pretty face towards his. "But. You are the. Only one who will. Know this. That." He nods towards the red staining the sheets. "Is our proof. Use it. Against me if you want. My. Apparent cruelty. It doesn't matter. You will always be. Mine."

Coming back to himself, the prince rips himself from the other man's grip, nearly tripping over himself in his haste to get out of the barbarian's reach. Surprisingly, the man doesn't pursue him - and the youth is far too exhausted and terrified to try anything else tonight. Instead, he snags one of the extra blankets thoughtfully left at the foot of the bed and wraps it around himself before settling into the cushioned windowseat. It wasn't a thick mattress like the one on the bed, wasn't piled high with comfortable, goosedown pillows, but anything was better than sharing a bed with the monster in human skin he'd been forced into marriage with.

**Author's Note:**

> This is all I have so far, but I may make other one shots if I get any ideas. Feel free to leave comments, compliments and suggestions!


End file.
